


Was man machen kann

by Wahnsinn



Series: Rammstein one-shots [9]
Category: Rammstein
Genre: Anxiety, Friendship, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:33:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26464972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wahnsinn/pseuds/Wahnsinn
Summary: Flake is anxious before the show. Till is, too, and he tries to calm them both down.
Relationships: Till Lindemann/Christian Lorenz | Flake
Series: Rammstein one-shots [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1730041
Comments: 14
Kudos: 30





	Was man machen kann

“Stop eating those nuts. You know you’re allergic.”

Flake stops dead in his tracks, his hand still stuck in the complimentary bowl of mixed nuts on the refreshment table in the dressing room. He glances over at Till. The vocalist has his pants around his knees and is working the plastic tube through the pant leg so he can pull it up and connect it to the giant rubber dildo. Despite being in the middle of that somewhat absurd task, he still manages to look sternly at Flake. Flake feels his face starting to burn. It always does when Till looks at him that way.

Pulling his hand out of the bowl, he stands awkwardly next to the table, like a child caught red-handed. The clock on the wall shows that it’s still too long till showstart. For some reason, time seems to pass so slowly when he is anxious. Flake nervously rubs his fingers with his thumbs. He could use a cigarette, but he just had one.

Grabbing a beer instead, he fumbles a little with the bottle opener before getting the cap off. He lifts the bottle to his mouth and drinks, trying to look more confident than he feels. The liquid is soothing as it runs down his throat. Unfortunately, the soothing feeling disappears quickly. Ideally, he should have had something stronger, but he has been punch drunk on stage so many times that he at least makes an effort to try and stay away from the harder booze before the shows.

In his side vision, he sees that Till is still eyeing him. Flake tries to avoid looking at his bandmate. He knows that Till sees more than he lets on, and it makes him uncomfortable. Flake is not sure why. Everyone knows he is different from the others in the band. He is the slightly, or perhaps not just slightly, neurotic keyboardist who is bullied on stage by mean Till. 

Interestingly enough, he feels a lot better being bullied on stage than he does in the hours before the concerts. On stage, he knows what is going to happen. Flake realises this is not a good analogy. Technically, he knows what is going to happen also beforehand. Still, he is always nervous.

Maybe it is because he is busy with other things on stage. He has to play and start the tracks, and then he has to concentrate. Right now, he only has to concentrate on being ready on time, and that doesn't keep his mind anywhere close to busy enough to not be nervous. 

As soon as Flake feels that Till is not looking at him anymore, he steals a glance. Till has managed to get his pants on, and is buttoning up. He is bare-chested, the hair on his chest dark against the lighter skin. Till is so muscular, and there is a giant bulge at the front of his pants because of the dildo.

Flake swallows as he stares at the bulging pants, and he starts thinking about what Till will do to him later on stage. While he likes to pretend it is something he just endures for the sake of the band, that is not fully true.

The actual truth is that he enjoys it. Till is strong, smells good, and is surprisingly gentle even though it doesn't seem like it. There is something weirdly erotic about being gagged and on a leash, getting dragged across the stage, and being manhandled by Till - then the sensation of cool air against his naked butt, the sting of the alcohol, and sometimes the surge of adrenaline when Till’s aim is a little off. It makes Flake feel desired, even though it is all just for show.

Flake clenches and unclenches his fists as he thinks about this. He feels himself getting slightly flustered. Without thinking, he reaches for the nuts again, just to have something to do with his hands.

Till instantly sees it. “Flake,” he says, sternly, and Flake pulls his hand back as if it was burned.

“Sorry,” he mumbles. He looks down at his feet. A few nuts have fallen on the floor. Flake contemplates picking them up, but chooses to kick them under the table instead. He glances over at his bandmate again. Till is sitting on the sofa, staring at him, but he doesn’t look annoyed, he almost looks amused. Flake lets his eyes slide down Till’s torso.

Subconsciously, he runs a hand down his own chest. It is so flat and skinny compared to Till’s. Flake realises Till is still watching. He looks away, and takes a big drink of his beer. More than half the content is already gone. He is drinking too fast. Soon, he will need to use the bathroom. Maybe he should eat something salty…

“Flake.”

Flake feels himself blush, caught yet again at reaching for the nuts. He tries to push the bowl further away, but he pushes it a little too hard. It tips over, and the nuts spill onto the tablecloth. Sighing, he puts his beer bottle on the table and starts scooping up the nuts, dumping them back into the bowl. Salt sticks to his fingers. He looks pitifully at his hand. Now he needs to wash, too. He sighs, louder this time.

“Flake.”

Till is next to him. Flake is startled. He almost loses his balance, and leans heavily against the table when Till grabs him, and helps him stand back up. Till is warm and strong, and his big hands rest around Flake’s biceps.

“You’re anxious.” Till’s voice is gentle for coming from such a massive body. Flake has always liked Till’s voice. Till is so close now that Flake can feel the big bulge in his pants against his thigh.

“I’m fine,” Flake hears himself say. It doesn’t sound believable. His body is stiff and awkward, and he tries to move. It is difficult with Till’s hands holding him in place.

“Relax,” Till soothes. “I’m anxious, too. Let me help us calm down.”

Flake gasps as Till takes his hand and licks it. He pops two fingers into his mouth. He sucks on them. He lets his tongue slide between them. Till’s tongue is soft. Once he has gotten all the salt off those two fingers, he moves on to the others, then the palm. It tickles.

Letting go of Flake’s hand, Till grabs him by the waist and lifts him up onto the table. Flake feels a nut against his buttcheek. Reaching back, he shifts his weight so he can brush it away. As he does that, Till’s hand slips down behind his waistband. He yelps as Till starts working on the buttons of his pants with the other hand.

“T-till…?”

Till stops what he is doing for a moment. Their eyes meet. Flake doesn’t know what he had expected to see in Till’s eyes. Maybe he thought they would be upset since he had to stop? Maybe he thought they would be full of lust, like when he approaches their female fans after the shows? Maybe he thought they would be demanding? They aren’t. They are mild, tender, and caring, quietly asking for permission to continue. Flake submits. He lets his back rest against the wall behind the narrow table.

Till smiles. Big fingers continue unbuttoning Flake’s pants, and Till hums when he sees the keyboardist is not wearing underpants despite not yet being in his stage costume. Flake blushes, but doesn’t look away. He watches as Till finishes the last button, then willingly lifts his butt up when Till tugs at his pants to get them out of the way.

Now half-naked on the refreshment table, Flake finds the situation slightly absurd. Maybe that is why his brain doesn’t go in panic mode. Instead, he calmly reaches for his beer bottle. Till lifts his knees and spreads his legs. Flake brings the bottle to his mouth. Till brings his mouth to Flake.

Flake has just swallowed his sip of beer when he feels Till’s tongue against him. He inhales sharply, clutching the bottle in order not to drop it. Till lets his tongue trail along the base of Flake’s cock, and he teases his balls with the tip of his tongue before popping them both into his mouth. Flake moans softly. He feels his cock stirring.

Slight embarrassment is drowned by pleasure and the fascination of watching Till. Flake has seen Till go down on people several times, mostly girls, but he has never seen it this close, or from this angle, or felt it himself. Seeing the broad tongue and the full lips work their way towards his now half-hard erection is strangely exciting.

A flash of self-consciousness washes over Flake. For a short moment, he worries that maybe Till won’t like his cock, maybe he will spit it out in disgust and leave him on the table, humiliated. Then Till’s lips are around him, and all those thoughts disappear. Flake closes his eyes. Till takes him in fully, then slowly pulls his head back, and Flake moans again, louder this time.

Gripping the base of Flake’s now fully erect cock, Till hollows his cheeks and goes to work. Flake cannot believe how _good_ it feels. He has had girls suck him off before, but it wasn’t anything like this. Is it because Till is really good at it? Is it because they are doing something that feels forbidden? Or is it just because it’s Till..?

These questions fill Flake’s head, but he is unable to focus enough to find answers. He lets go of his grip on the beer bottle, reaches down, and threads his fingers through Till’s hair. Flake doesn’t try to lead, he wouldn’t dare. Instead, he just lets his hand follow Till’s movements, his rhythm. Flake’s breath becomes heavy. He bites his bottom lip and tries to be silent in case someone should pass by outside. Only small whimpers escape his mouth.

“I like it when you moan,” Till murmurs.

Flake opens his eyes. Till is looking at him. He maintains eye contact as he lets his free hand play with Flake’s balls while slowly circling the head of his cock with his tongue. Flake holds his breath until he can’t anymore and has to breathe. He exhales, and moans as he does so, but quietly.

Till smiles. He pulls his head back a little to lick his finger. Flake doesn’t really understand why until he feels the finger slide down his taint. At the same time, Till releases the grip on his cock. He lets his lips slide all the way down the shaft, and as he does so, he starts teasing Flake’s hole.

The sensations are overwhelming. Any thoughts Flake had about being silent goes out the window. He arches his back and lets his head fall against the wall. His moans are loud now, and Till makes satisfied noises that blend in with the more obscene ones.

Flake is getting close. Perhaps he should let Till know, he thinks, but that thought disappears as quickly as it entered his head because right then, Till pushes his finger slowly into him and increases the intensity of his sucking, and Flake’s mind blanks out, his fingers tighten in Till’s hair, and he comes in an orgasm that is so powerful that he hasn’t felt anything like it before.

When Flake regains his ability to think, his self-consciousness returns to him. He takes a deep breath and glances at Till. Pearls of sweat cover Till’s forehead and his hair is a mess, but he has a satisfied smile on his red and swollen lips. “You are so beautiful when you come,” he says.

Flake can’t hear any irony in Till’s voice. He blushes and tries to think of an appropriate response to the compliment, but his mind is empty. “Thank you,” is all he manages. He smiles weakly.

“My pleasure.” Till leans over him and places a soft kiss on his forehead, then steps aside to give Flake room to get off the table. Flake manages to slide off without taking the tablecloth with him, but his legs are shaky.

“I’ll help you,” Till says. He scoops Flake up and carries him to the sofa. Flake sits down, heavily. He looks down at his now flaccid penis, somewhat in disbelief of what he just experienced. Till walks back to the refreshment table. He pops a few nuts into his mouth and uncaps a water bottle, emptying it in one go.

On his way back to the sofa, he picks Flake’s pants up from the floor. Till puts them on the coffee table, then sinks down on the sofa next to his bandmate and wraps an arm around Flake’s shoulder. Flake looks at his pants, then at the clock on the wall, then at Till.

“How do you feel?” Till asks. He ruffles Flake’s hair.

Flake is a lot calmer than he was earlier, but he is still a little overwhelmed. He also has a question that he knows he needs to ask before he loses his confidence.

“Wh-wh-what _was_ this?” Flake stammers. He can hear the strain in his own voice.

Till thinks for a few seconds. “Just friends with stage anxiety helping each other relax before the show. Unless you want it to be something else. If you do, we can talk about that after the concert.”

Flake exhales. He rests his head against Till. “So,” he says. “Do you want me to…?”

Till looks surprised, then he understands. “Nah,” he smiles. “I’m relaxed now, and we need to get ready for the show in not too long.”

The dressing room is calm as they finish their preparations. During the show, Flake finds his eyes drawn to the vocalist more often than usual. He looks at the big bulge in his pants and starts thinking about what Till will do to him later.

When it is time to put on his gag, Flake fastens it a little looser than normal. And as Till comes over to drag him to the front of the stage, he pulls it aside just enough to growl out five words.

“We need to talk afterwards.”

Flake can see that Till understands. Turning his back to the audience for a second, he gives Flake a wink and a smile. Then he is back in character. To the sound of loud cheers, he drags Flake up front. Flake feels the sensation of cool air against his naked butt, the sting of alcohol - and a surge of adrenaline.

Flake closes his eyes behind his glasses. If he didn’t have the gag in his mouth, he would have smiled. Till’s aim is a little off. For once, he doesn’t mind.

  


**Author's Note:**

> I discovered I was only missing four pairings to have covered them all. This fiction is a result of that. Although writing Flake is difficult for me, I like how it turned out.
> 
> As always, any feedback is appreciated. Thank you for reading.


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